


new york, christmas eve 1992

by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Movies, Christmas Tree, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fic Exchange, Holding Hands, Holiday Fic Exchange, Holidays, Kissing, Love, M/M, Secret Santa, Sleepy Cuddles, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis/pseuds/avengersincamphalfbloodstardis
Summary: Steve was looking forward to a quiet Christmas Eve with Tony; some movies, cocoa, and cuddling. Instead, he's thrown back in time to 1992. The year Home Alone 2 was released. The year before Bill Clinton assumed office. The year after the death of Tony's parents.But maybe Steve can make Tony's 1992 Christmas a little better.





	new york, christmas eve 1992

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glassessay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassessay/gifts).



> This is a gift for [mothmatic](http://mothmatic.tumblr.com/)/[glassessay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassessay/pseuds/glassessay) for [stevetonysecretsanta](https://stevetonysecretsanta.tumblr.com/)! The prompt was time travel and it was so fun to write. I really hope you enjoy it!  
> Also, I realized that while I am within the deadline in my timezone, I'm not sure where you are, so I hope it hasn't gone by for you!  
> Happy Holidays and happy reading!

Christmas Eve, Steve took two mugs of cocoa down to Tony’s lab, hopefully to coax him up for a movie marathon with him and the rest of Avengers. It would be a cinch, especially with the promise of more cocoa upstairs.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said as he entered, walking over to where Tony stood over the recovered alien object from their battle earlier in the week. Why aliens felt the need to attack during the holidays was something Steve would never understand.

“Hey babe,” Tony answered, eyes not lifting from the object, though he did hold an arm out for Steve to slip into, hugging round Steve’s waist.

Steve handed him the mug of cocoa and kissed his temple. “Guess what’s happening upstairs.”

A smile twitched at Tony’s lips. “Holiday movie marathon?”

“Holiday movie marathon,” Steve confirmed, smiling down at him. “With lots more cocoa upstairs...”

Tony mock-sighed, giving Steve a soft peck. “You had me at movies, kept me with the cocoa. Let me just put a few tools away.”

He moved away to return some tools to their homes as Steve inspected the alien object. Setting his cocoa mug down, he checked his watch, a gorgeous inscribed Christmas Eve gift from Tony, despite the protest that gifts were strictly for Christmas Day only.

He smiled at the watch, running a finger around the face in a slow circle.

Still looking at his watch, he reached down for his cocoa mug, hand brushing the alien object.

“Careful, Steve, don’t touch-” Looking up at Tony’s words, Tony’s face flashed in front of him for one second, turning from calm to panic as a blinding light engulfed Steve’s vision.

Steve blocked the light as best he could, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Sound rushed into his ears, surrounding his eardrums and drowning everything else out.

When Steve opened his eyes, he was in the middle of a construction site.

“Hey you!” A furious voice spit at him. “Get out of here! Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be here without a helmet?”

Street sounds slowly filtered in as Steve regained his hearing, honking of taxis and footsteps on a sidewalk.

“I-” Steve blinked at the man in the hard hat and vest in front of him. “Where am I?

The man spluttered at him. “You’re in the middle of the fucking Stark Tower construction site is where you are! I’m tired of you groupies trying to sneak in and play dumb! Get out of here before I lose my Christmas spirit and call the cops!”

Even in his confusion, Steve didn't have to be asked twice. He dove out of the man’s way and took off running.

He bumped probably a hundred people as he went, barely able to force the words _excuse me_ out, trying to find a familiar landmark. Things looked almost familiar but not quite right.

It must have been twenty minutes that he frantically searched, checking for his phone and realizing he’d left it on the couch beside Natasha.

He was alone, confused, and left with no way to contact anyone.

Then, he spotted a magazine stand at the corner and ran to it, grabbing the top newspaper off the counter, ignoring the warning from the attendant to be careful with the products.

At the top, in the unmistakable ink, the date stared back at him.

December 24th, 1992.

***

Steve wasn’t sure how long he walked, trying to process what had happened. Thankfully, or unthankfully depending on how you looked at it, he had experience with weird. Not quite time travel weird, but weird nonetheless. It had to be something to do with the alien object he’d accidentally touched; there was no other explanation.

He looked up, just for something familiar to look at; the New York skyline.

Then, he took one more step and slammed to a stop, nearly falling backwards.

“Oh _fuck_!”

Steve yelped as hot liquid splashed all over his front and his chest collided with the front of another person, something sharp stabbing into his pec.

He jumped back to see who he had collided into, brushing at his front, though it did no good as the boiling liquid seeped into the front of his shirt.

“Christ, watch where you’re going!” The same voice from before spoke, sounding all to familiar.

Steve looked up into the very angry, very _young_ face of Tony Stark.

How was this possible? How was _any of this_ possible?

It took a moment for his brain to kick into gear, which probably explained why his mouth got ahead of his cranium.

“ _Me_?” Steve said indignantly, holding his soaked shirt away from his chest. “I look up for one moment and you come out of nowhere! What were you doing that you couldn’t keep an eye out?”

Tony scowled at him; it looked different without the goatee ringing his lips. He lowered what looked like a dinosaur piece of technology, but was probably cutting edge for the time Steve found himself dropped into, and definitely what had been distracting him.

Instead of answering the question, Tony lobbied his own back at Steve. “Looking up, huh? What are you, a tourist?

Steve drew himself up to his full height. “Tourist?” he sniffed. “I’m from _Brooklyn._ ”

Tony’s thick brows were drawn together in anger, but the corners of his lips twitched. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have realized, but I was a little too busy thinking about the hot coffee all over me.”

The aforementioned coffee was now cold from the breeze and sticking to Steve’s chest uncomfortably. “Yeah well,” he said, getting what was probably a bad idea as his brain caught up to his situation. “How about I buy you a new coffee and you let me borrow something that isn’t soaking wet?”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Two things; how do you know we’re close enough to my place and that I’ll take a stranger there?” His gaze roamed up and down Steve’s figure for a moment. “And two: you really think my clothes would fit you?”

“That’s three things,” Steve said thickly. He knew Tony well enough, even at this age, to know that this was closer to a yes than a no. “And you just made fun of me for being a hypothetical tourist. You’re definitely from New York.”

This time, the twitching at Tony’s lips bloomed into a smile. “Alright smart guy, clothes first, coffee after. I’d normally say coffee first, but these jeans are getting difficult to continue wearing.”

He did a strange little hip wiggle and Steve laughed, pulling the shirt away from his chest again. “Understandable.”

“This way,” Tony said, waving a hand as he tossed the now squished coffee cup into a nearby trash. “Just don’t steal anything.”

“Seems easy enough.” Steve followed after him, catching up easily. “So why are you drinking coffee at-" He checked his watch. "Nine o’clock at night? Are you nocturnal?”

Tony snorted and looked at Steve out of the corner of his eyes. “What are _you_ doing out on Christmas Eve? Besides conning unsuspecting strangers into getting into their apartments and buying them coffee?”

Steve smiled down at his feet as they walked. As strange as it was to be walking with the younger version of his boyfriend, it was nice to know that some things never changed. The banter was an easy pattern to slip into. Unfortunately, knowing Tony as well as he did, he knew that the same question could be turned around on Tony and have a similar answer to Steve’s in this time. “Nobody’s around to celebrate with.”

A knowing, but sad smile tightened Tony’s lips. But somehow, where an older Tony might have shrunk away from this moment of vulnerability with a stranger, this younger Tony did not. “Same here.”

“So maybe spilled coffee was a good thing?” Steve said, raising an eyebrow at Tony, with a little smile.

Tony looked up at him and smirked. “I wouldn’t go that far; spilled coffee is never a good thing. But this seems like an alright way to spend Christmas Eve. Even if you are a total stranger.”

Steve had to stop himself from correcting Tony; Tony may not know him, but Steve certainly knew Tony.

“That was a hint for you to tell me your name,” Tony said teasingly, looking up at Steve. Wow, it was really strange to look down, expecting one face and seeing one almost right, but not quite.

“Oh! I’m S-” Steve said. His tongue fumbled while his brain kicked in. God, this past, this Tony was messing with his mind; he normally thought so much faster than this. “Grant.”

“Nice to meet you Grant,” Tony said with a small smile. It was a little guarded and Steve thought he knew why. “I’m Tony.”

Steve nodded and offered his hand, ignoring the lack of last names between them. “Nice to meet you Tony.”

Tony’s smile grew and he shook Steve’s hand as they walked. “You usually so clumsy, Grant?”

Tucking his hands in his pocket, Steve laughed. “Actually no. But I won’t brag.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Wow, so humble. But less believable with the coffee all over your front.”

“I’d love to offer a rebuttal, but I’ve got to maintain my humble character,” Steve said. “But I _will_ say that it was mostly your fault anyway. I was just walking by.”

Tony grinned up at Steve in a full-fledged eager way, almost happy to be teased. Steve wondered how many people in his life did that, the way he knew Tony enjoyed. Rhodey certainly, maybe Pepper? Although Steve was fairly certain Pepper wouldn’t be hired for a few years at this point. Tony loved the banter, and being surrounded by yes men the way he was, he wouldn’t get it.

Maybe this was why he was here? To give a younger Tony the kind of company he craved?

“Careful,” Tony teased right back. “If you don’t take responsibility for your actions, I may not be so generous with my clothes.”

“Hmm, but then you wouldn’t get your coffee,” Steve mused. “And something tells me that you would trade your whole wardrobe for a cup of coffee if you hadn’t had it in long enough.”

This was less of an assumption and more of a fact based off the many times Tony had attempted to barter for coffee with his possessions.

“Touche, I take full responsibility. Besides,” Tony walked up a stoop and turned to grin at Steve. “I’m curious what you’ll look like in my clothes.”

A blush filled Steve’s cheeks against his wishes. Tony _had_ always expressed an appreciation for Steve wearing his clothes. He hadn’t realized that was a longtime pleasure.

“Let’s test your hypothesis,” he said as evenly as he could, meeting Tony’s warm brown eyes with a steady gaze, hiding the way it made his stomach flutter.

Tony’s smile widened. “Oh, I like you Grant.”

He let them in, guiding Steve upstairs to the apartment. Steve briefly wondered if Tony could feel what was between them in the future and trusted him.

It was more likely that Tony knew he had enough money to up and move by tomorrow if Steve got any wise ideas about breaking in later.

The apartment was not exactly what Steve expected, but then, he wasn’t sure what he _had_ expected.

It wasn’t enormous nor tiny, not finely decorated but not shabby. It seemed to occupy a comfortable middle; it was a home.

“My roommate is visiting family,” Tony said, dropping his coat onto a kitchen chair. “But he’ll come looking for me if you try any funny business. Or go looking for you I suppose, if you take off with any of our goods.”

“Strictly unfunny business,” Steve promised, crossing his heart. “May I have a dry shirt now please?”

Tony laughed and disappeared down a hallway, reappearing after a few minutes with a sweatshirt that would be enormous on him and would fit Steve. Steve knew that very well; he recognized the hoodie. “Here you go. Since you weren’t even wearing a coat in December weather, weirdo.”

“Thanks,” Steve almost choked, trying not to let the emotion choke him as he looked at the MIT lettering across the dark blue, brighter and not quite as faded as it would be one day when Steve would wear it again.

“No problem,” Tony said, waving a hand, no idea what he’d just handed Steve. “Bathroom’s down the hall. I’m going to change too.”

He turned and went back to his room, leaving Steve clutching the sweatshirt.

Taking a few breaths, Steve pushed himself to move and went to the bathroom to change. When he shut the door, he set the t-shirt down and stripped his own shirt off, soaking the coffee out from it in the sink before hanging it on the towel hook. He took a washcloth from the cupboard and wet it, wiping up the sticky coffee from his chest before putting the hoodie on.

When he reemerged, Tony was at the tiny kitchen table, an open smile on his face.

God... Tony would never know how he looked at this moment. So young, more free than Steve had ever seen except in private. This Tony had not quite learned the public persona he would one day master. Part of Steve wished he never had to, despite the fact that he knew how to help Tony’s walls fall. But that was not how this story would go.

“Coffee?” Tony said brightly, and Steve laughed, breaking out of the little world he’d been lost in.

“One track mind?” he asked as Tony stood, tugging his coat on.

“More like a million tracks,” Tony answered, going to the coat rack by the door and pulling off another coat, along with a scarf. “But coffee usually rises above the other tracks. Here.” He thrust the coat at Steve. “It’s a spare. Should fit you okay.”

“Oh, I’m alright-” Steve tried to protest but Tony waved a hand.

“Don’t argue,” he said. “It’s freezing outside and if you catch hypothermia, I’ll have to rush you to the hospital and we’ll never get coffee.”

“I think hospitals have coffee,” Steve said, accepting the coat and slipping it on. “In their cafeterias.”

Tony made a face, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose. “Blech. Hospital coffee is terrible.”

“Agreed,” Steve said. It had been in the forties, when he was stuck there when they could afford it, and it was in the 2010’s when he and his various teammates recovered from their battles. Presumably, there had been no decent interim between the two times. He didn’t like that Tony, as young as he was, knew that already. There were few things to be innocent of at Tony’s age, but the taste of hospital food and drink, when one was so desperate for it, should be one of them.

Tony stepped forward slightly when Steve had buttoned up the coat. It was such a familiar step and Steve almost, but not quite, leaned down to kiss him on reflex.

Instead, Tony looped the scarf around Steve’s neck, tucking it into the coat. His cheeks were almost pink as he did it, not wanting to get caught being sweet.

Steve waited till Tony’s steady gaze moved from the scarf to meet his gaze, then smiled softly. This Tony, like his Tony, showed his kindness in small gestures. Steve wanted that acknowledged. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“No problem,” Tony answered, voice quieter, in a moment of their own.

Then, like he realized that this felt more intimate than it ought to with a stranger, he turned and opened the door. “Coffee.”

Steve had to laugh. Some things never changed. “Coffee.”

***

“Hot cocoa is _not_ better than coffee!” Tony said, real heat behind his words even as he laughed. “How can you even say that?”

Steve laughed, taking a sip from his foam travel cup, purchased from a bodega that had set up a little cocoa station, complete with mini marshmallows and crumbled candy cane as they walked along the twinkle light glowing street. He’d lost track of how far they’d walked, but it had been at least two hours and the conversation had never wavered. It was just as natural in this time as it was in the future, and since they both avoided mentioning people outside of the little bubble they’d created between the two of them, Steve didn’t even have to avoid mentioning their future friends. “I didn’t say it was better.” He would never poke the bear like that. “I said it was a better _holiday_ drink.”

“Hmph,” Tony said, sipping his own cocoa, probably enjoying it too much to argue. “I can’t argue that without sounding like a grinch, can I?”

“Nope,” Steve said cheerfully. “It’s the curse of the holidays.”

“Now _that_ was grinch-like,” Tony pointed out. “Curse and holidays are two words that don’t go together unless you’re planning on stealing Christmas.”

“The night is still young,” Steve said, spreading his hands open to gesture to the street ahead of them. “This could all be ours.”

Tony let his head fall back and he laughed, joyous and free. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at Steve, soft and happy. It was a look that was familiar to Steve, but one that he had spent a long time earning.

Steve grinned back, lowering his arms. His hand, now beside him, bumped Tony’s own, gently.

With more intention, Tony bumped back, eyes smoldering as Steve gazed down into them.

They threaded their fingers together, grinning at each other.

Something bright caught Steve’s attention out of the corner of his eye and he looked forward again, making a soft noise. “Oh! I hadn’t even realized we were heading this way.”

Tony chuckled under his breath. “Yeah well, I think we were sort of herded by the crowd. That’s what happens when you don’t pick a destination in New York.”

Steve laughed and tugged Tony forward. “C’mon, let’s get a closer look. I love the Christmas tree.”

They dove further into Rockefeller Center, clutching each other’s hands tight as they moved in, laughing too freely and joyfully for the public, even on Christmas.

Skidding to a stop in front of the tree, Tony slid a little into Steve, pressing up to him. Instinctively, Steve slipped an arm around him and hugged him gently.

Without mentioning their new position, they gazed up at the tree, sipping their cocoa.

“I’ve always loved the tree,” Steve said softly. “It’s really beautiful.”

In the years that he and Tony had been together, it had been a tradition to come to the tree. That was the best part really, standing with Tony and looking at the lights touch the sky.

“Hmm,” Tony said, taking a drink of his cocoa. “It’s nicer with someone else.”

“It is when that someone is you,” Steve said before he could stop himself. That was something he would say to _his_ Tony, the one he was allowed to kiss and touch and speak his mind to, no matter what the words might be.

But this Tony just smiled and walked forward to a patch with not so many people around, bringing Steve with him.

“The holidays aren’t my favorite,” Tony said softly, the rest of the world somehow quiet despite the crowd. “It’s... hard this year.”

Steve took a deep breath. He knew Tony; he knew what he meant, and he also knew that what Tony craved was a world where it was less hard. But maybe even more so than that, he wanted someone who understood.

“It’s hard for me too,” Steve told him, trying to inject as much _I know how you feel_ into his words. “Not... having anyone.”

Tony nodded, eyes glassy as he looked at the tree, the lights reflected in the shine. Then he blinked, something clearing in his eyes. “I can’t believe you spilled coffee on me.”

Startled, Steve let out a surprised laugh. “If it helps, I’m glad I did. I wouldn’t have gotten to talk to you if I hadn’t.”

Tony turned slowly, a small, mischievous smile on his lips.

“Why Grant,” he said teasingly, leaning in close. His breath ghosted over Steve’s lips, warm from the cocoa, one hand coming up to Steve’s chest, just over the MIT lettering. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Definitely,” Steve breathed. “Have been all day.”

Tony’s grin widened and his gaze flickered between Steve’s eyes and his lips. “What time is it?”

Confused, but used to Tony’s million track mind, as he put it, Steve raised his wrist and looked at this watch, the beautiful gift Tony had given him in the future. “It’s 12:01.” He smiled wide and looked back into Tony’s warm brown, crinkled eyes.

“Merry Christmas,” Tony said, and kissed him.

Steve slipped his arms around Tony’s waist and responded back passionately, perhaps too passionately for Rockefeller Center, but never, from here to the future, would he wish he’d tamped it down, because _this_ was amazing.

Tony in his younger self kissed a little less skillfully, but eagerly, happily, like he was just as wanting in the sensation rather than giving Steve pleasure. It had taken a long time for Steve to get Tony to this place where he was invested in his own pleasure again, rather than a tool to get others off. To lose himself in the sensation rather than focus on giving to Steve. To feel the state Tony was in so easily was a soft blow to Steve’s heart. He drew him closer in response to these thoughts, cradling him from all the harm he’d come to in the world that would make him kiss guarded and worried, if only for a moment.

The lights on the tree seemed to shine a little brighter when they pulled apart, and burst behind Steve’s eyelids when he closed them to kiss Tony again.

***

They walked back to Tony’s apartment, kissing every few feet, ignoring the cold on the tips of their noses and their fingertips until it got unbearable, and they ran, laughing and holding hands.

They pushed at each other’s coats as they stumbled through the door, taking a moment to hang them on the coat rack at Steve’s insistence before drawing each other back in for heated, faster kisses.

Tony tugged him to his room, hands fisting into the MIT sweatshirt as they went, pulling him closer and kicking the door shut with his foot.

Their arc as they tumbled to the bed was anything but graceful, Tony wiggling to hug Steve down to him and move up further on the bed.

Shoes and socks came off, Tony’s hand sliding up under the MIT sweatshirt, along Steve’s sweatshirt when Steve pulled back, panting soft.

“Wait,” he murmured. “We-we should slow down.”

From the look in Tony’s dark eyes, he disagreed. He shifted beneath Steve, their hips together. “Why?”

“Because,” Steve whispered, arms on either side of Tony as he looked down at him. “I really like you. And I want to show you that before jumping into bed.”

Tony’s features softened, his dark eyes looking up at Steve with a warmth that Steve felt in his stomach. “Okay,” he said softly. “What do you want to do instead?”

Steve’s heart fluttered. “You still want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” Tony shifted again, pushing up onto his elbows to give Steve a soft peck. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Steve didn’t want to leave either.

“How does a movie sound?” he asked Tony, moving back to kneel on the mattress. “Some more cocoa, a little cuddling...”

Tony grinned, teeth whiter in the darkness. “You freaking love cocoa.”

Steve’s laugh echoed in the quiet room. “It’s the perfect holiday drink.”

“I just got that new sequel to _Home Alone_ ,” Tony said after his chuckle. “Home Alone marathon?”

“Perfect,” Steve said, trying not to snort at the words _new_ and _Home Alone_ being used in the same sentence. He may be from the forties, but he’d acclimated to the new release of movies in the future quickly enough.

They shed their pants in favor of more comfortable sweatpants (during which Tony jokingly covered his eyes until Steve kissed him) and went to the kitchen to make the cocoa. In the soft light of the kitchen, they heated the milk and tore the packets, ignoring the spilled powder and liquid rings on the counter. It took longer than it should have, with them exchanging soft smiles and softer kisses during the whole process.

Back into Tony’s bedroom, Steve held the mugs and watched Tony push a VHS into his bedroom player, and wow, Steve had never felt more technologically advanced than Tony, what a weird feeling.

He grinned and handed Tony’s mug over when Tony crawled in beside him and nestled to his chest, tucking the blankets around them.

And if they spent more time sharing kisses that tasted like cocoa than watching the movies, then no one was the wiser.

***

Empty cocoa mugs abandoned on the bedside table, they fell asleep curled in a cozy ball in the middle of the bed, the blue light of the TV shining on them.

Steve woke up slowly, distinctly aware that though the body against him felt familiar, there were differences in the angles of it, and the room around him was strange.

With one last kiss to Tony’s ruffled hair, he carefully extracted himself, hating himself with every inch he pulled away. It killed him to leave this Tony, a Tony who needed him, who could use the love that Steve had for him, the protection he could offer him. But that wasn’t possible for this version of themselves. Steve had to figure out a way to get home.

He pulled the bedside drawer open as quietly as he could, fishing out a pen and paper.

Before he left, he took off the beloved MIT hoodie, folding it up with extra care and placed it at the end of the bed. On top of that, he left his note.

_You will see me again, Tony._

_Merry Christmas._

_Love, Grant_

He retrieved his own shirt from the bathroom, now dry, and left, sparing one last look at the love of his life, asleep in 1992.

***

Back at the construction site, sun breaking over the horizon and coloring everything golden, Steve tread carefully, not wanting to risk any of the dangers the foreman had surely been worried over. He came to the middle, where one day, many floors up, Tony’s workshop would be.

How would he get back? Surely whatever he’d touched in Tony’s lab had a recall option, something to draw him back in if he stood in the same spot.

“Hey!”

How did Steve have the worst luck in the world?

Before he could turn, the voice spoke again, making him freeze.

“What the hell are you doing on my godson’s property?”

Steve took a deep breath and turned slowly to face the voice, dreading each miniscule degree, completely at a loss for how he would handle this situation. His fingers went to the face of the watch in a nervous tick, circling the golden face.

Before he could fully reveal himself, a white gold light burst in front of his eyes, giving him only one flash of Peggy Carter’s shocked face looking down at him from a ledge of concrete.

He threw his arms up in front of his face to protect himself from the explosion, not unlike a twinkle light bulb breaking into a million pieces, squeezing his eyes shut. A roar of sound rushed into his ears and then faded slowly, leaving only the sound of his panting.

The world around him was silent as the blood flooded into the rest of his body from his ears.

“Steve?”

Steve lowered his arms slowly and looked around him, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted back to the light.

He found himself looking into the stunned, emotional, relieved eyes of Tony Stark.

 _His_ Tony Stark.

His Tony Stark, who had so clearly not slept for even a moment in the 12 hours Steve had been gone, but looked as though it had been a week from the dark circles and the worry in his eyes.

“Tony,” he breathed, arms dropping to his sides as he rushed forward, sweeping Tony up into his arms for a kiss a million times more passionate than the one they had shared in front of the tree.

Tony kissed back with as much feeling, arms trembling as they clutched Steve to him, scrambling further into Steve’s arms.

It almost felt like it had in 1992, as much abandon and freedom in the act as could be, just wanting each other.

“W-we were trying to figure out how to get you back,” Tony practically cried, forehead falling to Steve’s. “Thor is on his way to get Loki actually. Where-where did you go?”

“New York, Christmas Eve,” Steve whispered, hugging Tony tighter to him. “1992.”

Tony let out a shuddery gasp, the memories flooding back to him. “Grant.”

“The very same,” Steve said with a shaky laugh. “I’m so sorry I had to leave that night.”

Eyes falling shut, Tony shook his head. “1992-me wanted you. But me, now? I _need_ you.”

“I love you Tony,” Steve said softly. “Merry Christmas.”

Tony kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments or kudos if you liked! Happy Holidays!  
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://avengersincamphalfbloodstardis.tumblr.com/)!


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